Mosquitos, Sleep, and Scars

I was half way to posting this last night to be on time.  Oh well.  I had it written.  Anyway, here is this week’s Random Sunday – on Monday.

 

What is the purpose of mosquitoes?  No, serious.  Why do mosquitoes exist, beyond being food for bats?  If it were not for the Picaridin lotion (excellent bug repellent), I think I would have ended up in the hospital for a blood transfusion after this weekend’s camping excursion.  The flying menaces were so think it looked like it was raining insects.  Then the blasted things chewed up my feet so bad by Saturday night that I could not put my sandals back on Sunday morning for the itching.  Vile creatures.  I am glad they are a food source for bats.  I love bats.

I love how young children sleep.  We took my son to A Day Out with Thomas.  My son is about a week shy of turning four and adores Thomas the Tank Engine.  We spent several hours at the depot.  We even had pictures taken with Thomas and Sir Topham Hatt.  On the way home he crashed out in his car seat.  And I mean crashed.  As in unconscious.  Comatose.  Nigh on dead.  Even at about four he has that odd and seemingly impossible way of sleeping with his head pillowed on his own shoulder in a contortionist’s trick while he sleeps.  He looked so cute.

My husband asked me the other day whether or not I still felt comfortable in my two-piece swimsuit because I now have four scars across my stomach courtesy of my pancreatitis and gall bladder removal adventure about a month ago.  It made me think about how we constantly reinforce perfection as the only acceptable standard, particularly with looks, in this country.  It is so sad that we keep setting entire generations up for trouble because we seem to expect perfection – which does not exist.  For the record, I told him that I am perfectly fine with my swimsuit and my stomach.  Scars and all.

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